1811, Berlin
I have neglected my restaurant reviewing duties of late, due to certain work & study preoccupations. Tonight, I’m back on the job. Exams have been sat and work has been worked. It’s the night before my 2024 holiday, and I am about to cut loose for 18 days of driving around previously unexplored United States. Only one thing stands between me and tomorrow’s flight to Denver….a culinary adventure with Jan, at restaurant 1811.
As I’m frog-marching to my destination, I espy three other restaurants with cloth-ed tables. It seems I’ve hit upon a rich seam of future possibilities in this genteel corner of Wilmersdorf. When I arrive, Jan has occupied an ideal table on the interior side of some French windows. It’s a warm evening, but as friends will attest, I generally don’t care for road-side dining. My situational needs are met.
1811 describes itself as a German restaurant, but as I settle in, this feels like misinformation. My surroundings are stylish. There is beautiful dark wood panelling and smart furniture. There are no beer mats, Fraktur or decorative Krugs, and instead of wall-mounted Jagd-tropes….eye-catching plants. Yes, I know it doesn’t do to deal in stereotypes, but I need this one to convey how very un-German 1811 feels. Lest ye Schnitzel-seekers leave disappointed.
Our energetic waiter introduces himself with a beaming smile. He observes that Jan and I speak in English and does his utmost to adapt. We’re presented with 4, 5 or 6 course menus and, refreshingly, the freedom to swap-in anything we like from the longer a la carte list. We both decide to go for the 4-course without wine pairings, as it’s a Tuesday night and the aforementioned flight departs at 07:25 AM. Instead, I select from a very easy-going wine list, a bottle of Pfalz Sauvignon Blanc Reserve (2022) from the allegedly prolific family Bietighöfer.
As amuse bouche, we receive a salty morsel of stockfish in a mild herby cream. Hidden cauliflower shavings give this a nice bite. Wine arrives moments later with some homemade sourdough, “nutty butter” and vegetable tapenade. The bread and butter go down a treat with this vivacious wine, which is heavy on quince and something that reminds me vaguely of violets. The tapenade, consisting of puréed carrots and a lemon-like herb, is obviously a vegan-pleaser. Traditional tapenade would have been a bigger hit at this table.
Our first course is Redfisch filet with aubergine in a bronzed fennel broth. This is a strong opener. The broth is dark and earthy and packs a wallop. It gives the mild but meaty fish a big lift. Meanwhile the aubergine is soft, sweet and squidgy and contrasts beautifully with some crunchy toasted chickpeas that are somewhere in the mix.
Six or seven outdoor tables are occupied by a mixture of families and friends. This is a jolly place, with no trace of stuffiness. One of the chefs sporadically pops into the dining room to hand deliver his dishes. I feel like I could ask for some Heinz ketchup and no-one would bat an eye.
Next up, quail….”die Wachtel”….a favourite German word, that sadly did not crop up in my exam. Lightly seared quail breast on pickled asparagus, rhubarb with brined quail egg. I barely made notes on this course. I was too busy gushing over this tiny, but mind-bendingly rich and soothing egg. The slices of quail are succulent and quite interesting with the sharp Spargel. But the egg is the hero here. I have a nonsensical aversion to eating chicken and eggs in the same dish. It feels incestuous and/or genocidal. But it seems my policy does not extend to smaller birds, and I wolf down the lot.
Aside: Jan (a Norwegian) and I get on to the subject of visiting Oslo, something I’ve been considering recently for fairly base reasons. This unexpectedly leads us to Henrik Ibsen, one of my all-time favourite writers, whom Jan also knows and appreciates. What is it about his glacially paced morality dramas that gets my motor running? At the promise of a tour of his apartment (Ibsen’s, not Jan’s), I am sold. Oslo locked.
And next, we receive a main course. A terrific hunk of veal filet with fondant potato, marrowfat pea puree and caramelised onions. The meat is pink and juicy (likely cooked sous vide, we postulate) and meltingly tender. The marrowfat peas are simultaneously pureed and whole. These are far more comforting and not so sweet as the now omnipresent gastro-pub incarnation. May turnips (a new one on me) add a bitterness that is interesting, if not directly pleasing to me. A hearty sherry jus holds the whole lot together, and the end result is great.
Dessert - looks like a carnival. A raspberry slice with white chocolate and yoghurt sorbet. I must now eat my words as this is actually quite German, insofar as it is a layered construction of biscuit, cream, sponge and raspberry gel. Some sweet, macerated strawberries tart up the fro-yo. Altogether very light and quite delicious.
Our waiter pours out the last few mouthfuls of wine as we pass the three-hour mark. Given the brutality of a 5AM start, coffee and digestifs seem like bad ideas. Just as we decide to wrap things up, some parting “pancake donuts” are brought, which I dutifully sample despite already feeling too full. As seems to be becoming a theme, we are the very last party to leave. The chef bids us good night on his way out. We take our cue to stop blethering and pay up.
My final tally.
Atmosphere 9/10
Food & Drink quality 8/10
Service 8/10
Value for money 7/10
8.0 / 10
“Investigate wines from Pfalz, come back on a weekend for the 6-Gang with wine-pairing, Colorado Ho!”
